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and your brother!’ protested Inspector Queen.
    â€˜Exceptions don’t make the rule, Inspector. They break it. Will you step in, gentlemen?’
    It was a self-service elevator. It shot upward, and a moment later they preceded their guide into a strange-looking reception room.
    It was shaped like a wedge of pie with a bite taken out of its pointed end, the bite being formed by the section of elevator wall giving into the room. They discovered later that the whole pie represented by the floorplan of the dome was composed of three pieces, of which the reception room was the narrowest and smallest. King Bendigo’s private office took up half the circle. The third room, for King’s staff of private secretaries, and the reception room made up the other half-circle. The elevator had three doors, one to each of the rooms.
    The outside wall of the reception room was composed entirely of fluted glass bricks. There were no windows, but the air was cool and sweet.
    The room was stark. There were a few functional armchairs of black leather, a low copper table six feet in diameter, a small black desk and chair, and that was all. Not a lamp — the two side walls themselves glowed — not a vase of flowers, not a picture. And no rug on the floor, which was made of some springy material in a black and gold design. There was not even the solace of a loud voice, for no receptionist received them in this queer reception room, and it was so thoroughly soundproofed that a voice could not be heard fifteen feet away.
    Abel Bendigo said: ‘My brother is tied up just now.’ How he knew this Ellery could not imagine, unless the Prime Minister had memorized his sovereign’s schedule for days in advance. ‘It will take —’ Bendigo glanced at his wristwatch — ‘another twenty-three minutes. Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen. Cigarettes and cigars on the table there, and if you’d care for liquid refreshment, there’s a cabinet in that wall. And now please excuse me. I was to have sat in at this conference from the beginning. I’ll be back for you when King is free.’
    There were two doors with conventional knobs in the reception room, one in each of the straight walls. Abel Bendigo slipped through the left-hand door and shut it before either man could catch a glimpse of what lay beyond.
    They looked at each other.
    â€˜Alone,’ said Ellery, ‘at last.’
    â€˜I wonder.’
    â€˜You wonder what, Dad?’
    â€˜Where it’s planted.’
    â€˜Where what’s planted?’
    â€˜The ear. Of the listening business. If this is where His Nibs keeps visitors waiting, you don’t think he’d pass up the chance to find out what’s really on their minds? Ellery, how’s this set-up strike you so far?’
    â€˜Incredible.’
    The Inspector sank uneasily into one of the black armchairs.
    Ellery strolled over to the elevator door. Like the one in the lobby, it had sunk into the floor on their arrival and had risen shut again. The door section fitted so cunningly into the curved shaft wall that it took him a long moment to locate the crack which outlined it.
    â€˜You’d need a nuclear can-opener to get this open.’ Ellery went over to the door in the right-hand wall. ‘I wonder where this goes.’
    â€˜Probably an outer office.’
    Ellery tried the door; it was locked. ‘For his forty-nine secretaries. Do they wear uniforms, too, I wonder?’
    â€˜I’m more interested in King King. What are the odds he wears ermine?’
    â€˜Nobody trusts anybody around here,’ Ellery complained. He was over at the door in the left-hand wall now.
    â€˜Better not,’ advised his father. ‘It might open.’
    â€˜No such luck.’ Ellery was right; the door to King Bendigo’s office, through which they had seen Abel hurry, was fast. ‘Sealed in, that’s what we are. Like a couple of